Beautiful little doll,
Whose face as pure as snow;
With unseeing eyes staring
Unwillingly at the harsh winter,
The harsh cruelty of this world,
What truths would you speak?
"I would speak," she seemed
To say in a voice of solemn innocence.
She quietly replied," Of under the weighted
Malice; under all this burden and sorrow
That seems to almost cover the
Entire world as if in a blanket of snow;
That there is…"
With almost hesitant stillness of
Non-existent muscles, and of her
Unmoving and pale rose petal lips,
A gust of frigid wind lightly pushed
Her head forward, as if in deep thought
Herself, finally harked;
"…Paradise… Of an unfathomable
Beauty only in reverence, equivalent
To Eden itself."
The wind pushed her unforgivably
Again off her tall ledge and she crashed
Harshly to the floor below. Her once
Azure eyes, so clear and blue, are now
But a dull and ugly grey.
The doll moved no more.